


Dementia

by BloodyAbattoir



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dementia, Gen, Immortality, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-10-01 19:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: Memory storage that will run out before the end of your life is a terrible thing.





	Dementia

**Author's Note:**

> This is something based a bit off the new season of Doctor Who and the character Ashildr. In particular, the scene where Clara knows/remembers her, but she cannot remember Clara, which she blames on the fact that she has a finite memory but an infinite lifespan. What if dementia is the same concept?

Dementia. A 3 syllable word that no one wants to hear. It's a cause for tears, for grief. It signals the end of life, the beginning of the end. You lose the ones you love, as they become swallowed by the past.

Indeed, you begin to live wholly in the past. You no longer see your grandchild in front of you, but your own child who died too young. Your grown children are gone, replaced by the faces and names of your siblings, all dead for decades by this point.

You know what dementia is. Your doctor has told you before, it is a loss of memory, related to a shrinking brain, a damaged brain, a brain full of holes. Yet, you cannot help but question this. Your brain is the same size as its always been, there are no holes, no damage. You developed dementia early in life, making you sick and weak far before your time. You'd begun to forget things before you were 50, and by the time you were 60, you were no longer in the here and now, but rather, the then and there.

Finally, the here and now became your deathbed. You were surrounded by your family, yet you could no longer recognize them. You hadn't been able to recognize them properly for years at this point. You'd lost your sanity too far back for you to remember, and couldn't be certain of anything anymore.

Before, when you were first "diagnosed" - cursed would be a better word - with dementia, the thought terrified you. You couldn't possibly imagine losing all of your memories, losing who you were. It was a thought that scared you more than death.

Now, having gone through losing your mind to that 'disease' - demon would be a better word - you couldn't help but think that while yes, it was awful, it wasn't half so bad as you had thought that it would be. Yes, it was unpleasant not being able to remember the people that you knew you'd loved at one point in your life. Yes, it was partially unpleasant not being able to live in the present time, but at the same token, you couldn't help but enjoy being able to live in your memories, a welcome change from the withered old husk that you'd been the past few years.

Despite the fact that you could no longer properly remember anything past the age of 60, you quickly began to realize that something was very, very wrong. Your family was crying, and they'd brought in a pastor for you. Instinctively, you knew that you were going to die soon. There was no way around it.

Before your traitorous body finally gave up on you, you had one last thought that was terrifyingly lucid for your mental status.

Humans are just like computers. Theoretically, they can go on running forever, at least in terms of hardware, but when given a finite memory, they can no longer function properly. You, by proxy, had dementia not because of anything wrong with your brain, but rather because you were given too long of a life for the amount of memory that you were given, and your body had finally had enough.

Shortly before everything went dark and quiet, you couldn't help but feel grateful that you weren't immortal.


End file.
